Papa brings HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE home to me every Friday evening.
I have now one hundred and one numbers. I think the old cat
watching the mice play base-ball is very funny, but the water-melon
turning out to be a little black baby is just as funny. I like
YOUNG PEOPLE very much. Papa says I look just like the stuck-up boy
in No. 76; but mamma says I am like the little boy talking to the
old candy woman in No. 76. When I come to think about it, I think I
am apt to be around where the old candy women are, and maybe this
is why papa calls me _stuck up_.
My head is red, just like mamma's. I have three little sisters,
named Bessie, May, and Louise, and they all have red heads too. We
used to have a pair of little sorrel ponies just the color of our
heads, and papa called all of us--mamma, ponies, and children--his
sorrel-tops; and sometimes, when we went out driving, papa wanted
to borrow a little black-haired girl from some of the neighbors, to
relieve the monotony. (This is what he called it.)
If ever I come to New York, the first thing I want to do is to call
and see the editor of YOUNG PEOPLE and the ladies and gentlemen who
help him get up so many nice, funny things.